masterlist. ao3. wattpad. strawpage. tiktok. sb. taglist info. meet my ocs.
˙Ⱉ˙ฅ active fics.
WINE DRUNK — ron anderson.
⤵︎ r.a x fem!oc. wattpad exclusive. link
(｡•ˇ‸ˇ•｡) current wips.
NSFW ALPHABET — carl grimes.
⤵︎ c.g x reader. tumblr, wattpad, ao3.
BLOOD! GUTS! FIRE! — carl grimes.
⤵︎ c.g x fem!oc. wattpad exclusive.
(o´ω`o)ﾉ requests.
status: very open.
how?: dm me or send an ask!
requirements: character, reader or oc, setting, general plot (1-3 sentences or bulleted).
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on nsfw content: i do write nsfw about teens, but only in the context of said teens being aged to 18+. i write nsfw x reader and x oc. i do not write ships.
it’s so annoying whenever a post about twd is talkin about sum “carl and glenn never had a conversation 😢” you stupid bitch, there were more time jumps than i can count on my fingers, you dont think between all those years that were unseen by the viewers, carl and glenn didnt interact once?? if that were true, why the hell was carl weeping like a little bitch during glenns demise?
sneak peek into my new wp exclusive fic, wine drunk.
Dear Ron Anderson,
I'm sorry.
Part of me wished I had known you sooner. Part of me still wishes I had never known you at all.
Not that it's relevant anymore. Even if you had a choice, I'm sure you wouldn't associate with me. Definitely not after everything that happened.
There's only so much I can express in writing. Even now, in my cold, dark room, my hands shaking and my eyes wet, I can't find a way to describe exactly what I'm feeling. I think it's best that it remains that way.
If you had been here with me, I would have apologized in the only way I knew; time would pass, our hands would find their way to one another, and I would lace my fingers through yours in a way so shameful it could make my bedroom quake.
Fuck, I miss you. Every single day, I miss you. I hope you miss me too.
This is the fault of nobody but myself. It feels disrespectful to even sit here writing this letter, bedridden and depressed, wishing upon a star for your forgiveness like a wet dog with a dead animal between its teeth. It appears sacrilegious, even – a disgrace to the love we built – to use metaphor to describe the wrongs I committed, painting my actions as some sort of anomaly instead of something tangible.
I hope you can find a way to be without me that does not burden you. I have caused enough burden already. The weight of everything I have carried has caused me to break, to lash out. I attacked, I defended, and, most importantly, I hurt the only boy that cared to love me long enough to try. I'm sorry your efforts were for nothing.
I taste your tongue on my lips every time I swipe my own against them. I miss the way you would run your fingers through my hair, naked in the shower, chest-to-chest as you frothed shampoo on my scalp. I miss the way you breathed softly into my neck as you slept. I miss when you didn't care enough to love me as hard as you did. Your affection, or lack thereof, would have made this commitment a lot easier to pursue.
I wish you hadn't left me to rot here. Albeit, it's the least I deserved.
Please remember, even in my absence, that I will never forget you. But I simply cannot watch you drown yourself in the turmoil of a woman like me. When I am dragged and beat, I will calm my wounds with the whisper of your name. When I am buried in the cold earth below and the worms eat at my skull, they will preserve the portion of my brain that holds you.
If my legacy withholds any lasting message, I hope it is one that contains the stories I have of our journey.
Once more, I apologize. Please forgive me if this is emotionally draining or contradictory.
Your lover,
Sara Chasman.
𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐃𝐑𝐔𝐍𝐊 / 𝑹𝑶𝑵 𝑨𝑵𝑫𝑬𝑹𝑺𝑶𝑵.
⤴︎ 𝒾𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩
sara chasman was never to be trusted.
𝗢𝗥
⤴︎ 𝒾𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩
ron anderson tr...
stormborns
baratheonpilled
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vaporwave
tangentwithtanner
